


Beast With Two Backs

by Patchouli (lifelesslyndsey)



Series: How To Teach An Old Dog New Tricks [15]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Floor Sex, Implied Relationships, Sugar Daddy, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 16:39:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13150689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifelesslyndsey/pseuds/Patchouli
Summary: “Unbunch your panties, princess. You said you were a vacation spot, not a permanent residence. Well my life's a fucking party, and that sounds good to me.”





	Beast With Two Backs

**Author's Note:**

> Tony tells Darcy exactly what he wants.

 

Tony’s running his fingers along the rim of his glass, absently listening to Darcy and Pepper’s shop talk.  Pepper had given him the side-eye for ordering a highball at lunch, but Darcy hadn’t hesitated to order a double John Collins. When Pepper nails her with the same look, Darcy shrugs it off. “It has lemon juice in it,” she argues shamelessly. “I think.” 

 

Pepper laughs into her napkin and orders a Manhattan. 

 

“Have you considered my offer?” Pepper asks, biting delicately into the maraschino cherry. “It’s just a foot in the door. Alumni do it all the time. You’d be accepted on your own merits. You’re not getting in just because you know me.” 

 

Darcy grins behind her glass. “You know what, Pep? I think I  _ will _ accept. I hear nepotism and circumstance makes the world go round.”  

 

Tony smirks. “Who told you that? He sounds smart.” 

 

“Eh.” Darcy shrugs one shoulder. “He’s alright.” 

 

The waiter comes, setting dishes before them.  Tony’s not sure what he ordered; his French is passable for porn and pastries and very little else. Whatever it is, it’s a bird and it still has it’s head.  Lovely. Across the table, Darcy winks at the waitress. “ _ Un scotch des hautes terres, pas de glace _ .” She looks at Tony. “Him too.” 

 

“The house white wine please,” Pepper requests, and so Tony can only assume Darcy ordered him a drink.  It’s not something that should make him feel a little hot under the collar, but it does.

 

“I’m glad you’ve changed your mind.  I’d like to submit your name to the Board of Directors for Chief of Operations by spring of next year.” Pepper has a steely look in her eye.   “With the headway we’re making on the international subsidiaries, having you already managing day to day functions will go a long way to circumventing any of the Board trying to insinuate their insipid  children into the position. A degree isn’t contingent to the job but I think it’ll smooth the process if you’re actively pursuing higher education.” 

 

Tony, who had only been half listening (distracted by the way the third button down on Darcy’s sweater was straining the most, halfway out the buttonhole like one deep inhale could send it sailing), when he screeches back to the conversation. “Wait -- you’re going back to school? Who's going to run my company while you’re gone?” How’s Tony going to  _ fuck her with feelings _ if she moves---anywhere else. “Are you staying in New York?” He picks up his phone. “What about Cornell? I could get you into Cornell.” He’s fully prepared to shift a Swedish bank account to make it happen.  

 

“Correspondence classes,” Pepper cuts in, mildly, taking his phone out of his hand “And I was thinking Harvard.” 

 

He pins Pepper with a look, not fully sold. Tony doesn’t need Pepper’s Alumni status to get Darcy in anywhere her heart desires. He has his name for that, and money for where his name is more likely to get him kicked out “So Harvard’s just going to let her phone it in? A whole degree. She could go to Syracuse.” It’s not Ivy, but it’s New York. Tony could take a suit and be there in forty minutes. “Unless you want Ivy league? I could get you into Colombia. It’s fifteen minutes from Manhattan.” Columbia is one of those more likely to kick him out, but Tony knows they can be bought. 

“Oh Jesus Christ. It’s like community college Harvard, not  _ real _ Harvard,” Darcy takes another drink, mouth curled into a half smile. “They have online courses. I’m staying in New York.” 

Pepper makes a considering noise. “You might consider taking your Masters at Columbia, though. The Stark International subsidiaries should be well established by then. You could easily commute from Home Base.” 

 

“Woah, yeah. Okay. Let’s not talk about Master anything until I manage an Associates, okay. Pepper,” Darcy says, very evenly. “I would love for you to set something up with the Dean at Harvard. I appreciate the offer. Tony - don’t buy me a school.” 

 

“You said you were okay with nepotism now.” He wasn’t going to buy the school. Maybe a wing. They could call it the Darcy Lewis Center for Soft Sciences.  He’s imagining a busty little statue on the quad already. 

 

“Do not buy me a school.” She points at him with the end of her fork. “And give me that, I know it’s creeping you out.”  She holds her hand out, tilting her chin to his plate. 

 

Tony hands it over. “I don’t like to eat things that are  _ looking _ at me.” He can feel its beady, cooked little eyes burning into his skin. “It can see into my soul.” 

 

Darcy neatly servers its head and hides it under her napkin where it can't watch him. “You’re such a baby. Why’d you order it?”

 

“Because duck in French is still duck.” He takes his plate back, less offended now with it so precisely decapitated. 

 

Darcy snorts. “But  _ dick _ en Français est  _ bite _ .” She snaps her teeth at him. 

 

He can see Pepper grinning from the corner of his eye and wonders what she’d think if she knew that Tony had his mouth on Darcy not forty minutes ago. Will have his mouth on her again, as soon as fucking possible.  She has to have known Tony couldn’t resist a girl like Darcy.  Probably. Pepper’s smart. 

 

“I thought we could go shopping,” Pepper announces after lunch, to the surprise of exactly no one. “If you want to take the car back, Tony, we can call Happy when we’re finished.” 

 

“I could shop.” He’s not letting Darcy out of his sight, not until he gets her on her back, with her legs around his shoulders and that’s only because he doubts he’ll be able to see much when he’s trapped beneath her fantastic thighs. “In fact, I insist. Darcy isn’t nearly as determined in updating my wardrobe, Pepper. This suit is from last season.” 

 

Pepper’s mouth twitches. “I did notice.” 

 

As soon as Pepper allows herself  to be ushered into the back for a fitting, Tony steals the keys off the hook by the register, and slips into Darcy’s dressing room.  She doesn’t look surprised, topless in her damn skirt, with her hand on her hip. Tony locks the door, and  _ looks _ at her.  Leers, a little, maybe. 

 

Sh sniffs at him, and tries not to look amused as she reaches up to unhook her sweater from the hanger. “What are you doing Tony?” 

 

He steals her hand before she can pull her clothes back on. “You didn’t answer my question.” With her fingers tangled in his own, he looks down at her, closing the space between them. 

 

She has very blue eyes. Sea storm blue, and he watches her pupils expand to eat away that pretty color.  Her fingers move from his own, to curl into the front of his jacket, holding him in place as if he might actually try to leave. “What question?” 

 

Her mouth is right there, the lack of parmedian peaks and median notch across the upper vermillion (ie Cupid's Bow) making it seem so full it borders on obscene. Tony thinks about her mouth a lot. If he kisses her, he might not stop, and Tony wants an answer.  He moves his mouth up her jaw instead, presses a little too hard. “I asked you if you understood.” 

 

“I’m beginning too.” She turns her face into his, catching his mouth, and Tony forces himself to pull away before he forgets he doesn’t want to fuck her right here. She makes a noise, an angry little growl and Tony almost--but no. Bigger plans. 

 

“You put your mouth on me and I’m going to hike your skirt up and fuck you over the bench.” It’s the right height for her knees, and she could brace herself against the mirror. Tony could watch her face when she comes - he’s been thinking about it since Clint fell between her thighs and made her cry. “Another day, maybe. I’ve been thinking about fucking you since you popped two buttons to get me to sign requisitions. I can wait another two hours to do it right.” 

 

Darcy tips her head back, and Tony raises a hand to dance his fingers along the pale purple edge of her lacy bra.  He’s going to do so many filthy, awful, depraved things to her.  He’s going to take his time. “The first day we met?

 

“And every day since. Don’t act surprised. You did it on purpose. You wanted me to look. You’re fucking---the buttons. And the goddamn garters. That white shirt you never wear a bra with---that shit at the club on the table - I could see your---I fucking---.” He can’t think for how badly he needs to be inside her. It’s a fucking tragedy that he’s not already. He closes his eyes, and presses his mouth to her hair because if he does anything else, he’s going to fuck her right now. And she wont stop him, won’t even fucking hesitate. So it’s on him. It’s hard.  He doesn’t have great impulse control on the best of days, and she has no inclination to encourage good behavior. He’s shaking a little, teeth on edge. “You knew.” 

 

“I mean obviously.” She rolls her eyes and arches her back off the wall so her tits press against his chest and Tony feels himself slipping. “That was over a year ago. We both know I’m easy; you could have had me any time you wanted.” A part of Tony knows that. Has always known that.  It took watching her with Bruce, watching her with Johnny, watching her  _ not with him _ to realize why he didn’t just take her to bed. Why he knew, even before he understood, why that would never be enough.“ What changed?” 

 

Carefully, very carefully, he takes his hands off her and presses both shaking palms to the wall, caging her in. He curls his body away from her. He can’t touch her. He wants her too badly. “You were jealous.” 

 

An indignant little huff escapes her, ruffling a wild curl that's fallen access her face. “I wasn’t jealous.” 

 

“Were too.” God, but she’s fucking gorgeous. Topless and beneath him, flushed a pretty pink. Tony wants to  _ bite _ her, right there, on the top curve of her breast. “You’ve seen me flirt and fuck my way through half of Manhattan but some snobby shop monkey with a big degree made you jealous.” It’s not a very nice thing to say about Noble, but Tony doesn’t really care about her. “It’s cute.  Didn’t know you felt that way, Darce. Thought it was just sex. Thought you just liked the attention. I get it. But---you were jealous.” 

 

She makes a face, brow furrowing. She’s  _ pouting _ . “I wasn’t---” 

 

“I was. I hated it when you were with Bruce.” Tony moves to kiss her - stops himself just in time. “I hated it. I---Bruce would ask me for advice sometimes, you know? Friend to friend, because I knew you best.” He presses his forehead to hers, hard enough to push her back against the wall. He's  _ shaking _ with how bad he needs her. “I’m not a very good friend, Darcy. I didn’t want you to actually like him. I don’t---everyone else you just fucked. It was different with Bruce.” 

 

“Not really.”He can feel the warmth of her breath on his own mouth, taste the scotch from lunch. “It was never going to work out with Bruce.” 

 

Tony’s not touching that. It might have worked, had he been a better friend and had Darcy had a little more self-worth.  “You’re not allowed to like other people.” 

 

“That doesn’t seem like a healthy basis for---this.” She skirts around the word relationship, and Tony smiles. “You can’t tell me what to do.” 

 

“I don’t want you to like other people,” Tony amends because she’s not wrong. It isn’t healthy. But they’re codependent even as friends. He’s not asking for miracles. “You can pretend you’re not the jealous type. I am.” 

 

She looks away, lashes fluttering against her pale cheeks. “Yeah. That. That’s why I don’t do this. Dating. You know. Long term. Whole monogamy thing. Not my style.” 

 

“I didn’t say you couldn’t fuck other people.” Honestly, as much as Tony wants nothing more than to bury himself inside her and not come up for a solid week, he knows his gaze will wander. Darcy’s gorgeous and funny and smart and just as awful as he is, and he wants her forever but...Well. Monogamy isn't his style. His ego doesn’t have room for it. He likes attention just as much as she does.  He gets off on people wanting him too much. He's needy like that. 

 

She looks up at him, sharply. “So you just...what. I don’t know what you’re asking for here. Fuck buddies? What?” 

 

“No.” He bites her then, can’t help himself, right on the curve of her jaw, before kissing his was to the soft skin beneath her ear.  She smells like whiskey and motor oil from lunch and the lab, earlier. It smells familiar, like a sense of home.  “I want a relationship.” Somewhere, a cold sweep crushes itself across hell. His mother’s just turned over in her grave. Genetically mutated pigs are stretching their wings. Tony wants a relationship. 

 

Darcy blanches, and Tony laughs even as he buries his face into her hair. “Tony---” 

 

“Unbunch your panties, princess. You said you were a vacation spot, not a permanent residence. Well my life's a fucking party, and that sounds good to me.”

 

She lets her hand fall from his jacket. “I can't...I don't want... That.”

  
  


        “Don't want what? It doesn’t have to mean the White Picket Bullshit, Darcy. I don’t want all that boring American Dream crap. Do I seem like I’d ever live in a house in the suburbs? I have a tower the size of my ego, I’m good where I’m at.  What don't you want? Because nothing has to change. Except I’d like to fuck you  _ and _ other people. But you, specifically, for an indefinite amount of time. With feelings.”

 

“I’m not a very good girlfriend,” Darcy hedges, turning away from him. 

 

“And I’m not a very good person.” He takes a risk and cups her face, lifting her chin.  “You’re not very good at other people's idea of a girlfriend. But I’m not other people, and every relationship I’ve had has blown up in my face, spectacularly. Sometimes with actual explosions.”

 

“So you just want to do what we’re already doing, but with fucking.” She shifts beneath his touch, resting her head against the wall. She’s not putting up nearly as much of a fight as Tony prepared himself for and it gives him pause  _ and _ confidence.

 

He touches her mouth - that plush bottom lip - with the pad of his thumb. “With feelings. I hear that’s important. I have feelings. You have jealous feelings which I’ve decided are applicable here and indicative of something potentially more.” 

 

“Indicative, huh? You think pretty highly of yourself, Mr. Stark. That’s it?” She licks his thumb, and the slow, wet drag of her tongue pulls directly at his balls.  “Day to day stays the same, fuck all night?” 

 

“Do I seem like the kind of man who limits fucking to the evening hours?” It’s two in the afternoon and he’s eight seconds from fucking her in a dressing room. 

 

“No. But you know what I mean. Nothing changes?” 

 

“Mostly. Maybe not entirely. I’ll want to show you off,” Tony admits, pushing his thumb into her mouth, and Darcy  _ sucks _ because Darcy is---perfect. He feels his breath catch as he drags his hand away.  “But I already do. I’ll want you hanging off my arm, spoiled rotten and well fucked. I’ll want all our business splashed across every front page.  Everybody watching. You’ll love it, because you like the attention. You’ll read all the comment sections; we’ll read them together, maybe make a drinking game out of it. They’ll call you a gold digger, call me a creep. A sugar daddy.  _ I _ could call you my sugar baby. Would that help? Instead of girlfriend?”  

 

She hesitates, and Tony laughs when she scowls around the word, “....Maybe.” 

 

“You don’t spend enough of my money to be a good sugar baby. Work on that, would you? Honestly, it’s embarrassing. Pull your weight.  All the other billionaires are gonna judge me.”  He kisses her because she’s right there and she lets him and he’s weak. “I’ll tell you what. Take some time to think about it.” 

 

“How much time?” 

 

“Take...” He pretends to think on it, looking off like he’s parsing out some huge mathematical equation. “You can spend the next fifty years telling me why I shouldn’t want to date you. So long as you stick around to do it.” 

 

She smiles - the little Tony smile and he thinks maybe he’s won something from that grin alone. “What happens after that?” 

 

“I’m forty five, Darce. After that, I’ll probably be dead.” 

 

She stares at him for a long minute, and he can see the cogs spinning in her pretty head. “I get to move my cat into the penthouse.” 

 

Tony winces. Lucifer fucking hates him. Natasha had graciously offered to keep the cat (who was, inexplicably fond of her), while on-site. “I didn’t sign up for step-children.” Darcy gives him a look. “Fine. Yes. Move your cat in. But I get to call it a  _ relationship _ whenever I want.” 

 

She opens her mouth, to argue no doubt, and Tony's fucking  _ ready _ for it. She doesn’t have to say yes. As long as she  _ stays _ , he’ll happily spend the rest of his life countering her arguments.  As long a she stays, and lets him. 

 

“Darcy?” Pepper’s not so close, but Tony tenses anyway. “Have you seen Tony?” 

 

Darcy shoves Tony away from her, and pops the door open just enough to peek out. “Alberto took him in back to look at the new stock last I saw. Are you getting that purple dress, because if not, I want it in green.” 

 

Tony crowds up against her, and presses his mouth to her ear.“Get rid of Pepper.” 

  
  


“I’ll have them put one back for you,” Pepper calls, voice drifting as she disappears back into the shop. 

 

“We love Pepper,” Darcy hisses back, wriggling as he swoops a hand around her waist and pulls the door shut. “We have plans for dinner.” 

 

“Darcy,” Tony says, more quietly this time. He catches her eye in the mirror. He  _ needs _ her. “Get rid of Pepper.” 

 

Darcy stares at him for a long minute, before bending over (and pressing her goddamn ass against his dick), to collect her phone off the bench.  Tony watches curiously over her shoulder as she pulls up Phil’s contact information, and texts him. 

 

_ Ask Pepper to dinner _

 

A moment later, her phone dings. 

 

_ You said I had to wait four more weeks _

 

“I wanted there to be adequate time between the last time I fucked him and the first time she does.” Darcy explains, when Tony makes a curious noise. “But that necessity is negated by me fucking you. Not that I ever dated Phil, but the boyfriend swap still applies.” She texts back:

 

_ Situations changed. Take pepper to dinner. Possibly breakfast? _

 

A moment later, Tony hears Pepper’s phone ring across the store. “You’re very devious.” 

 

She catches his eye in the mirror again. “Yeah, but you like it.” 

 

             “I do,” Tony tells her, pressing the words into her throat. “I really, really do.” 

 

Pepper’s voice carries over the walls of the dressing room a moment later . “Hey, I know we had plans to go out tonight, but Phil called. He asked if I was free for dinner.” 

 

“Oh my god, fuck him  _ please _ .”  Darcy’s pulling on her sweater, little hands fastening the buttons with deft precision. Tony slips his hand up the hem, lets his finger span her soft belly. She scowls, curling away.  Tony knows she’s ticklish. “For real. Ditch me. Ride him into the sunset.  It’s been two months since I did him last, so it’s not weird anymore. Hoe-code approved.” 

 

“So glad to have your blessing,” Pepper snorts. It’s not a sound he associates with her and Tony can feel the grin stretch his face. “Are you sure you’re not just trying to get rid of me so you can take Tony to bed?” 

 

Darcy hesitates, eyes wide even as she wrestles Tony’s hand back out of her shirt. “Um. I mean. They’re not mutually exclusive?” He’ll give her points for not lying again.  “Catherine told you?” She asks, as she fixes her face and hair in one of the floor to ceiling mirrors. 

 

“Lacy, actually. Don’t be to harsh with her; it came from a good place.” Pepper right outside the dressing room now. “She was very hush hush, just wanted me to make sure Tony wasn’t pressuring you. Cute, right?”

 

“Adorable,” Darcy agrees, catching his eye in the mirror. Tony blows her a kiss and she ---she fucking  _ blushes _ . 

 

Tony’s didn’t think his dick could  _ get _ harder. 

 

“You know, I have to admit, I was surprised. I thought for sure Tony would tell me,” Pepper continues, slipping on her shoes. “He does so love to brag and well...I can’t see him keeping quiet about you.” 

 

He’d be offended if it wasn’t so very true. 

 

“Well, he might have. Except you found out before we did.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“Pepper,” Darcy says, slow and sweet as she slips out of the dressing room. She leaves the door ajar, and Tony can see them in the reflection of the mirror. “Tony and I are-- We haven’t had sex. The thing in my office last month-- That was. Well. Not what it looked like, but I thought it would be funny--Never mind. Point is, Tony and I aren’t. Doing that. Together.” Tony thinks she could stand to sound a little less horrified by the suggestion, thanks. 

 

Pep’s quiet for a long thirteen seconds. “You’re not sleeping with Tony?” 

 

“Yeah.  uh. I mean. No. Yeah.  _ Yes _ . That is correct. We’re not. I'm not.” 

 

“You’re not,” Pepper echos very, very evenly. Darcy doesn’t answer, just stares at her, expression  schooled in the neutral Natasha face. “Well why the hell  _ not _ ?” 

 

Darcy blinks at her. “That’s...Not what I was expecting.” 

 

“ _ Please _ .  I have eyes. Darcy - there isn’t a woman on this planet a better match for that mad man. Honestly, if I didn’t love him so much, I’d have  _ never _ let you two meet. You’re trouble! I had to hire a second PR person just for you _ , and a third for you and Tony together _ . But----” She shrugs, taking a breath. “You work.” 

 

“That seems to be the popular opinion,” Darcy replies, with a strange edge to her voice. “So you’re like...Cool. If it’s not-- if you don’t think it’s appropriate, or whatever.... Because nothing’s happened yet.” 

 

That’s not true, not in the slightest, but he can see how Darcy might believe it.   

 

Pepper tuts at her, voice going soft the way voices do when people talk to adorable baby animals. “Darcy. You could have taken the position as my assistant without ever so much as meeting him, you realize,” she tells her, pragmatically. “You don’t need my blessing. You had it before you even met the man. I took one look at you and I knew.” 

 

“I don’t know if I should feel insulted or not,” Darcy admits, with a wry twist in her voice. 

 

***

 

Tony pays for Darcy’s things, mouthing the words  _ sugar baby _ when Pepper isn’t looking. She sneers at him, but doesn’t bother collecting her bags. He carries them to the car with an bemused expression and holds the door open, letting Pepper in first, and then Darcy, just so he can grab at her ass.  

 

“Did you have reservations for dinner, Pep?” Tony picks up his phone, makes a show of pulling up restaurants.  Darcy’s on hers too, brow furrowed as if she’s hard at work but Tony can see her tumblr dash reflected in the window.  She’s looking at cat pictures.  “I could buy a table at that Thai place?” 

 

Pepper looks away, and so she misses Tony’s smile. “Actually, I’m going to have to reschedule.....” 

  
  


***

 

Pepper takes the private elevators up to the penthouse floor with them and Tony almost,  _ almost _ doesn’t make it. Pepper knows, and so a small part of his mind says it doesn’t matter if he sinks his hands into Darcy’s hair and kisses her senseless right there. Pepper already knows. But that way lies madness and fucking in elevators and such things are better saved for rainy days. Pepper leaves them outside the elevators, making her way to her private suite on the other side of the building.  

 

Darcy looks at Tony, mouth quirked into a smile as she tips her head toward the door. “Well? We gonna do this, or what?” 

 

This.  _ This _ . They’re going to do  _ this _ .  Tony marches forward, throwing open the doors ahead of her just so he can slam her against them as soon as they close. She seems to expect it, throwing her arms up over his shoulders as the mechanical little whirl locks them inside. 

 

He fucking hates her lovely little skirt in that moment, if only because it’s too tight for him to hike up so he can get her thighs over his hips. But, perhaps that’s for the better, because he can’t fuck her against the door. Physically, yes, he is capable. But first---

 

He yanks her sweater open, even as he kisses her, sending glossy pearl buttons skittering across the marble floor. “Jesus---Fucking.  _ Darcy _ .” He’s been very good. He’s waited, so patiently. For over a year. And then all morning.  

 

He gets his face in her tits, hands cupping each and pushing them up - he’d happily fucking die like this, suffocate on all this perfection. He bites her, just like he wanted too, and she gasps and pulls his hair. She doesn’t pull him away, just pulls his hair and pushes him harder against her. 

 

Tony sinks to his knees, kisses his way down her belly, presses his head against her hip. “Off. Off. Get it  _ off _ . Now.” 

 

She arches up away from the door to give herself room to unzip the back and Tony almost can’t handle it - the shape of her body, the way it bends.  The zip is loud in the quiet of the entrance way, and Tony pulls the skirt down with two, shaking hands.  It pools around her heels- she’s still wearing her heels, and Darcy kicks it away, tosses her torn sweater with it. She’s got the garters on, over tiny lavender panties and Tony puts his mouth on her cunt over the shimmery silk. 

 

He’s waited. So very, very patiently.  

           She’s  _ wet _ . 

 

Her back’s still arched, pulled taut like a bow string, and she lets her head hit the door as she pushes against his mouth.  She is the definition of wanton, and Tony’s never believed such desperation could be so real but he feels it too. He's never wanted anyone like this, but he's also never. made to wait. He breathes her in, fingers curling under the garter straps. 

 

It’s Darcy who pushes her panties down because she’s not afraid to ask for what she wants. They don’t go far, catching on her stockings, and he can only push her legs apart as far as the panties will allow but it’s enough. Her pussy is every bit as pink as the sweater he just ripped off her, and Tony licks hard against her clit, clinging to her garters at the back of her thighs like fucking handlebars.  

 

He can’t fucking  _ think _ , it's all just her---she’s pushing against him, all but riding his face with her hand buried in his hair to keep him in place and Tony doesn’t even have his dick out but he’s already certain this is the best sex he’s ever had.   Her other hand slaps hard against the door when he works two fingers inside her, fucking them into her just as fast and hard as she’s grinding on his tongue. He can’t handle the way she’s trying to spread farther for him,  thighs trapped against her panties - he just---it’s too much, and Tony needs her to come more than he needs to breathe. Wants it so bad it fucking  _ hurt _ . 

 

He pulls his fingers from her cunt, balls drawing up at the terrible little sound she makes - a helpless, frustrated cry like  _ how dare he stop _ . She’s so goddamn wet, her thighs are wet, his hand is wet, his mouth---

He rips her goddamn panties off. They snap so easy, and Tony throws one of her legs over his shoulder so he can get closer, deeper ,push her apart farther.  _ Spread _ her.  She scrabbles against the door, struggling to balance herself on one little heel and Tony helps her out by getting his finger back inside her, and pulling her whole body closer to him.  

 

“Fuck,” she cries, fingers curled into fists as they slam against the door. “Oh fuck. On my god.  _ Tony _ .” 

He might....He might actually come in his fucking pants. He’s a forty-five year old man and he’s genuinely in danger of coming in his pants if she cries his name like that again.  She puts both hands in his hair and pulls him forward, grinding herself against him ( _ face fucking him, christ _ ) and Tony can’t come like this, he can’t. He needs to be inside her, he’ll never forgive himself if he isn’t.  He grinds his palm against his cock, almost does more damage than good, and curls his fingers inside her---

 

When she comes, her  _ whole _ body shakes, the boot of her heel digging meanly into his back (the little point of pain choking him back from ending this far to soon).  She sinks down to the floor, and tumbles him right onto his back. 

 

“The bed---” 

 

“Bed can wait,” she insists, pushing his jacket open.  His shirt gets the same treatment as her sweater and she scratches her hands down his chest, fingernails catching on the twisted scar tissue beneath the thin white undershirt until her fingertips catch on his belt instead.  He wishes her hair was down. He’d really like to fucking pull it. 

 

She sits on his cock and he can feel how fucking wet she is, how hot, through the fabric of his pants as she pushes against him while she undoes the buckle.  He grabs her hips, holds her down. “Bed,” he tries again, because he intends to draw this out, really he does, it’s just that his body keeps  _ betraying _ him. 

She circles her hips once more, before moving back to sit on his thighs,  just far enough to pop the button and undo the zip---- and then she has her hands on him and Tony forgets what beds even are.  Her hands are so  _ small _ \- he’s certain he doesn’t look that big in his own hand.  Small hands, yes, but smart, circling him hard at the base and working up. “Princess,” he chokes, scrubbing a hand down his mouth, too weak to look away . “You’re gonna end this show before it starts.” 

 

“I’ll get you hard again,” she promises, scooting down farther so she can---

 

“Jesus  _ fucking--Darcy _ ,  _ Darcy--- _ ” Tony needs her to get her fucking mouth off his cock right  _ now _ .  Tony needs her to stop blowing him. Tony wants Darcy to stop sucking him off on the floor of foyer. This day makes  _ no _ sense. “I’m not exactly young---” 

 

She looks up, hair a pinned mess, mouth red and swollen where her bottom lip is still dragging over the head of his cock. She licks, hard across the underside and Tony feels his balls tighten so fast it makes him dizzy. He---wouldn’t mind coming all over her pretty mouth. Except---No. He wants more. 

 

“I’ll get you hard again,” she tells him, once more, and  _ yeah _ . Tony suspects she will.  

 

She drags her nails down his balls while sucking at the head of his cock and cork screwing her other hand down the shaft and it’s---it’s the combination that really fucks him up. It’s too much. She’s too much. Tony closes his eyes, throws an arm over his face - he can’t look. He’ll come. He’ll fucking come.  It’s a tragedy that he can’t watch (he’ll pull the feeds and watch later), because she’s so fucking beautiful and wild and blowing him on the fucking floor in the foyer like every one of Tony’s wildest dreams. 

 

Then she stops.

 

Tony’s hasn't fully decided if he’s ready to thank her or protest before she’s sinking down on him. The hot shock of heat makes black spots dance in front of his eyes. He’s in her and...ANd....He’s not  _ prepared _ , he wasn’t  _ looking _ , he didn’t  _ know _ .  But he’s sinking into her, inch by inch and it’s a fucking reflex to reach out and grab her by the hips. Pull her down. But he sees---He fucking  _ sees _ her take him in and--- “You’re the worst,” he cries, bending his knees to brace his feet on the floor. “You’re the fucking worst--- _ God, I had plans.  _ They included a bed and like forty five minutes spent with my head between your thighs! _ ” _

 

Darcy laughs, tits bouncing as she  _ rides _ him in earnest, hand braced on his chest. Tony fucks up into her - can’t not. “Yeah but my plans included throwing you on the first available surface and fucking your brains out. I win.” 

 

“This is what I get when I  _ lose _ ?”  He lets go of her hips -it’s not easy - but only because he needs to see her tits. The clasp on her bra comes loose and she lets him slide it off her arms, moving to brace her hands against his thighs to push her chest out so he can get the fucking effect - and that.  _ That _ .  Fuck her.  _ Fuck her _ . She’s  _ mean _ . 

 

Tony does not look where she’s sinking down on his dick because it’ll all be over. Instead, he watches the flex of her thighs, the bounce of her tits, the curve of her hips as she raises herself up high  and comes down hard. It’s a very pretty picture. It’s working for Tony. Really, really well.  “Do it for you,” he says, a little deliriously.  It feels to good. It looks to good. Tony’s not a good enough person for this. This is torture. “You need to----you.”

Her hips stutter a little, where they’re raising up. “What?” 

 

“Like you like.” He can feel her cunt clenching around him, fluttering. “Do it--however’ll make you come. I’ll make you come again, I swear to God, but I’m so fucking---I can’t. I need you to come. Do what you need, then I’ll---” He’s not a selfish lover, he’s just  _ too close. _ “Let me watch you---like  _ you _ like it.” Because the way she's riding him....is for him. He wants to see what she likes. 

 

She seems to understand because she leans forward again, and the thrust of her hips changes to something deeper, longer.  He’s buried as far as she can get him, and she  _ grinds _ down, in sweet little circles that steal all the air from Tony’s lungs.  He can feel her body shift with it, tension building as she moves faster, grinding down harder, dragging her clit against him. She bites her lip and Tony doesn’t touch her ---he just watches her take what she needs from him. 

 

__ He can see it when it happens. She drops her chin to her chest, a soft, breathy little moan breaking on her lips as she loses her rhythm. “Shit,” she hisses, thighs locking hard around his hips as she pushes down into him, fingernails biting into his abs where she’s bracing herself. “Christ. Fuck.  _ Please _ .” 

 

“Yeah?” He asks, because he has to  _ know _ .  He lays his hands over her thighs (the lace of the garters against his palms----) and pulls her against him, matching her pace. Tony keeps her going, pushing up as she clenches down on him, feels her clench and flutter and come and cry out, nails biting into the soft part of his stomach. She doesn’t stop, even when her thighs begin to tremble, and she’s come so hard she can’t stop---

 

He spills her sideways and fits himself back between her legs. He braces himself on his knees, one hand above her shoulder, sweaty palm barely holding against the marble and fucks into her too hard, but  _ God _ . She grabs at his shirt,mouth falling open on a loud cry and as she's wraps her thighs high on his hips. Tony touches her everywhere he can with his free hand and  _ comes _ , muffling messy groans into the sweaty curve of her neck. 

 

He tries not to crush her but it's  _ hard  _ when he can't feel his legs. Still, he's in his forties and the cold marble is unforgiving against his knees.  Dismount is never a particularly graceful sport but Tony manages to get himself tucked away and on his back, beside her. 

She's pink-cheeked and panting, and she rolls onto her side to look at him, head propped in her hand.  Tony traces the curves if her body with his eyes, the nip in her waist, the half heart mountain of her hips where they melt into the fullness in her thighs, still adorned in garters and stockings.  He feels very.... Very  _ smug _ . 

 

She laughs a little, maybe at his expression. “So, about your plans.....”

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking about reposting this all as one fic, for easy reading and downloading..


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